What It Takes
by Nyeerg
Summary: What it took for Astoria Greengrass to realize that even a Malfoy can change.
1. Chapter 1

**What It Takes**

**What it took for Astoria Greengrass to realize that even a Malfoy can change.**

Astoria Greengrass flopped gracelessly into the last empty chair at the table. "That kind of a day, huh?" Maisie Jones, one of her fellow undersecretaries, asked as Astoria crossed her arms on the table and buried her face in the crook of her elbow. She patted Astoria's shoulder but it only elicited a disagreeable grumble from her friend.

The three other women at the table made sympathetic noises. Astoria, technically senior to all of the rest, got the dubious pleasure of dealing with their boss on a daily basis. Mr. Chapman, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was admittedly fair and only had justice in mind, but he also had an annoying habit of disregarding anything said by young women. Even though he only employed the five women at Astoria's table, he had a tendency to ignore anything that they said that could possibly come across as an opinion.

"Remind me why I'm working this job again?" Astoria mumbled.

"Because getting married and popping out babies isn't your idea of fun?" Megan Brown said. "Or maybe you're just masochistic."

Astoria sat up straight and glared moodily at the offensive broad-leafed plant behind Megan's head. It looked like it was mocking her, all cheerful and green and plant-like. "I swear, I am this close to up and quitting."

The four women again made sympathetic noises. "Maybe you should," Maisie said.

Astoria turned her moody look on her closest friend. "Hear me out," Maisie protested, hands raised. "Seriously. You're always going on about wanting to push through new legislation and we all know you've got some really good ideas, but you're never going to get anywhere working for Mr. Sexist Pig."

"And how will being unemployed help me?" She flagged down a waiter and he placed a glass of chilled water at her elbow.

"It won't. But maybe being part of the new Department Of Magical Legislation might." With a decidedly un-Maisie-like coy smile, she pulled a purple pamphlet out of her pocket and handed it to Astoria. "Frankly, I'm amazed you haven't already heard about it."

Astoria took the proffered pamphlet and flipped it open.

In scrawling silver script, it read out what felt like her destiny. '_As per order of Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Department of Magical Legislation will be established by December of 2004. The members of the new Department may schedule interviews with the pro tempore Head of Department Susan Bones._'

Astoria didn't even finish reading the pamphlet before she was out of her chair and heading towards the door.

"You're welcome!" Maisie called after her.

Megan stole Astoria's abandoned glass of water and grinned. "I'll be sad to see her go, since that means I'll be senior, but at the same time, she's going to kick so much ass there."

"If she gets hired," Emily Baghaus said. She'd been deep in a crossword; talking about work during non-work hours was not something she partook in. "She doesn't have any experience."

"That's not true." Megan glanced around at the group. "She's been an undersecretary to the Chief Warlock for, what, two years? That's two years of trials and research. I'm sure she'll get it without a problem."

The Atrium was thankfully mostly empty when Astoria A pparated in, because in her excitement she overshot the Apparation safety zone by over four feet. It was a mistake no trained witch should make, but Astoria didn't care enough to even pretend to be embarrassed. She caught an elevator going down and looked at the pamphlet to see where it was she needed to go.

The Department's temporary headquarters were located on the second floor, which made sense since Susan's office was also on the second floor. As the door opened she caught Susan walking towards the lift and Astoria waved her down. "Susan!"

Susan took one look at the pamphlet in Astoria's hand and smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to show up." She turned back towards her office and Astoria fell into step with her. "We don't have many openings right at the moment, but we also don't have many qualified applicants, so there you go. Have a seat, the interview process won't take long."

"I hope you weren't on your way home or anything," Astoria said apologetically. "When Maisie showed me the pamphlet I got here just as soon as I could."

"It's not a problem. Like I said, I knew you'd be showing up soon enough."

"Why's that?" Astoria took the clipboard Susan clipped several pages to and began to skim it. It was a basic job application; experience, hours available, contact information.

"Several members of the Wizengamot have put your name in to the Minister for a position in the Department. They seem to think you'd do well here."

Astoria suppressed a manic grin. Not even half an hour prior, she was wondering if there was any way to ever get to where she wanted to be in life, and here it was practically falling into her lap.

"Basically, we don't have a set structure yet for how the Department will operate, since there's no precedent for one consolidated department for handling legislation. Previously, as you probably know, regulations and laws were passed by the individual departments, so there's a lot of conflicting and outdated regulations on the books because there's nobody reviewing and updating and handling it. That's part of why the wizarding world was so…backwards, up until Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. Shacklebolt wants to make sure nothing like that can happen again, and he's doing that in part by creating this department."

"What would my job be, should I get a position?" Astoria borrowed a quill from the holder on Susan's cluttered desk and produced her favorite blue ink from an inner pocket in her robes.

Susan smiled and leaned back in her chair, amused. "You'll start out reviewing every piece of legislation currently on the books. We first need to get rid of everything superfluous and outdated. Then, we'll begin by updating what we can and redoing what needs overhauling. After that, your day job will be reviewing new legislation. For the time being, I believe we'll be using the Wizengamot as the review board for passing legislation. You'll probably need to get supporters for bills because no doubt people will be fighting everything just because this is new and they don't like it, but you're essentially going to be the person making sure the various Departments' regulations are fair and necessary, on top of helping the Minister revamp what parts of the wizarding world need it. That's a really broad description, but once we really get rolling, it'll all make more sense."

Astoria returned the clipboard then realized exactly what Susan said. "I _will_ start out?" she questioned, confused. "If you don't mind explaining-"

Susan cut her off with a wave of her hand. "I was simply waiting for you to come to me," she said. "Technically I'm supposed to be impartial and should not ask individuals if they want to join the Department, but the Minister has already informed me that should you decide to come to an interview, you were to be hired on the spot. Congratulations!" She held out her hand and, dazed, Astoria shook it. "We're still trying to figure out where to settle the Department but in the meantime, I think I'll put you in one of the empty offices on this floor. When can you start?"

"When can you get me an office?"

"How about this Monday," Susan said. "Take a few days off, and get ready for an onslaught of mindless reading for the next few months. I can't guarantee this job will be interesting in the least until we get through the old stuff, but it will keep you busy and it'll pay well."

"I completely forgot about wages," Astoria laughed. "I was too busy imagining myself surrounded by stuffy old books with ink all over my hands and a really stupid smile on my face."

"That there will be plenty of." Susan stood and Astoria followed suit. "I'm glad to have you on my team."

"I'm glad you're willing to have me on your team."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I meant to have this up yesterday, but I finished the chapter and decided I hated it and rewrote it completely. I have every intention of updating every Sunday, though, so keep an eye out for the coming chapters!

* * *

"The paper's in your office," Astoria's secretary said before she'd even finished closing the door behind her. Several of the other secretaries were gathered around Tabitha's desk, all looking down at something. "You may want to look at it right off, Miss," she added.

Astoria furrowed her brow and went past the tea station, her usual first stop, straight into her office. The morning's Daily Prophet sat rolled neatly in the middle of her desk like an omen of a bad day to come. She set her purse down on the low table by the door and surveyed the paper with an air of weariness. Her name had been in and out of the papers for the past few months; whenever she greeted the day with the Daily Prophet, the rest of the day normally went by with a headache.

She unrolled it and laid it flat on the desk. She, unexpectedly, wasn't on the front cover. Instead, it was Draco Malfoy in the headline. She stared at it for a minute, trying to figure out what he had to do with her, before remembering to read the rest of the headline. _Draco Malfoy—Muggle lover?_ It said. It was entirely too ambiguous for her tastes; of course, when you were in a job where ambiguity meant legal loopholes, it would come as second nature to dislike them. Perhaps he'd taken a Muggle wife. The thought was absurd, but stranger things had happened post-war. She scanned the first few paragraphs and plain curiosity kept her going.

_Draco Malfoy, son of former Death Eater and Voldemort sympathizer Lucius Malfoy, has returned from abroad with a grand plan to merge Muggle and Wizarding societies. In open defiance of the International Statute of Secrecy, he has announced plans to bring Muggles into hearth and home. The biggest question on everybody's mind has got to be "Is he completely insane?" Has Draco Malfoy finally cracked like so many readers expected when he up and left four years ago, only to return last week with this outlandish new plan?_

"This cannot be real," she said in pure disbelief. The Daily Prophet had apparently returned to its mid-war tendency to print anything and everything regardless of truth. There was no way, absolutely no way, that Draco Malfoy would _ever_, in a thousand million years, want anything to do with Muggle society. The very thought crossed the line was plain absurdity into an outright lie. "Tabitha!"

Her secretary detached herself from the gaggle of people at her desk to pop her head into Astoria's office. "Yes, Miss Greengrass?" she asked. Astoria, with an expression like thunder, set the paper gently down on her desk. "Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

"Would you please procure a copy of today's Quibbler? Immediately?"

Tabitha nodded and, after sending the rest of the office back to their desks, sent off a memo to one of the ladies in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures who she knew would have at least one spare copy.

Astoria, not even sure why she was so angry, silently fumed in her office. Maybe it was because the Prophet was supposed to have stopped its sensationalist story-telling, and maybe it was because libel really, really pissed her off, but she was going to come down like a sledgehammer on the Prophet unless the Quibbler backed it up. Strange as it seemed, because everybody remembered what it was like in the nineties, the Quibbler had become one of the biggest sources of honest information for the British wizards as long as you ignored the sometimes weird stories about magical creatures. So help the Prophet if the Quibbler had a different story!

Astoria scanned the rest of the Prophet's version of events. It could accurately be summed up as the largest load of hogswash in recent history. Draco Malfoy, apparently the new anti-Voldemort (was that supposed to be a bad thing? Did that mean they thought Voldemort was a good thing?), had gone on record stating that Muggles were the new frontier for the wizarding world, and it was for the future of wizards everywhere that he proposed inviting Muggles in with open arms.

Tabitha returned with a copy of the Quibbler in less time than Astoria expected—in under ten minutes, the day's copy was on her desk. "Thank you," she said, unable to keep the icy tone out of her voice. Thankfully Tabitha knew it wasn't directed at her; she brought a cup of tea in with the copy and left both silently in Astoria's reach.

The Quibbler article, which took up a good page and a half, said things much simpler and much more accurately than the Prophet could ever hope to report.

_Draco Malfoy has returned from America a changed man. Some say it isn't possible, but we at the Quibbler know better than that. Draco, who was happy to provide the Quibbler with a brief interview, says that the four years he spent in America changed his mind set on a lot of things, first and foremost being Muggles and how the wizarding world should handle them._

_Draco left for America when he was twenty, for reasons he declined to share both then and now. He has returned for the first time to his home and family, and it is clear he's not the same person who left England four years ago. He says part of why he left was to find himself; after Voldemort's defeat and the loss of his family's reputation and a good deal of their money, he had nothing left to turn to, and barely knew who he was._

"_I learned a lot about myself. American are a curious bunch; unlike British wizards, who know and had good reason to fear the Malfoy name, American wizards saw me as an upstart young brat, and they saw no issue with putting me in my place." He's relaxed and takes little prompting to tell his story. His easy-going tone belies the deeper, somewhat darker story that he's willingly shared in full with me. "At first, I didn't understand and I fought back, but once I realized that it was easier to get what I wanted when I was polite and didn't treat other humans like they were beneath me, it was the first step in becoming who I am now._

_I lived on my own in a flat in New York, and that was an experience in and of itself! I was in charge of paying my bills and taking care of my own food and cleaning. I'm not ashamed to say it took me a while to figure out all of that. For the first six months or so, I ate out a lot and only came back to sleep and shower. My neighbors were Muggles and while I resented that at first, I was determined to understand them. I grew up believing they were less than the dirt beneath my feet but I knew that wasn't right. That's not enough, though, just knowing something's not right. Your head says one thing but your very being, how you were raised and what you grew up knowing, that's a different story entirely. My head and heart weren't on the same page and I nearly gave up and came home."_

"_What stopped you?" I asked, my curiosity growing with every word he said. Imagine it—Draco Malfoy himself, in my office, telling me about how he learned to love Muggles. I almost didn't believe him at first, but the honesty in his voice and eyes kept me going._

"_From leaving? I don't really know. I didn't want to return a failure and I didn't think my family's reputation was something I should rely on to carry me through life. It wouldn't have worked at that point anyhow, not after the war. I just felt like there was something there I needed to do and I couldn't leave until I figured it out." He pauses, then grins and leans forward in his chair. "Do you know what helped the most?"_

_I shake my head. Draco Malfoy living like a Muggle in New York! The very thought is outrageous, yet tantalizing all the same._

"_I took classes, with the aide of the Foreign Wizard Assistance League. I figured that just being surrounded by Muggles wasn't enough, I needed to communicate and interact with them and really learn about them, as individuals. I needed to find a way to force myself to see them as human. I pretended to be a Muggle; I left my wand in my apartment. It wasn't safe to use magic in most of the places I went, and it was risky to take my wand on the chance that it could be discovered. I still interacted with wizards, for the things I couldn't do on my own, but it's quite common for American magic folk to attend magic schools and Muggle universities, so the FWAL was well equipped to help me. Nobody over there knows the Malfoy name. As far as my peers knew, I was a stuck-up British boy who didn't know anything about anything. And that's true, I really didn't. I still don't. Four years isn't enough to learn everything there is to know about being a good person and I still slip up and revert to how I used to be, but those moments are few and far between."_

_He pauses and I take the chance to ask him the question I'm sure all of my readers have been wondering. "Was there a young lady in there somewhere?" I ask, with a sly grin. He laughs, but there's just a trace of something deeper there._

"_That's a topic for another time. Where was I?"_

"_Taking classes. What subjects did you study?"_

"_I took a little bit of everything. There were a lot of things I didn't have any sort of foundation in so I had to take the remedial classes, but they were still interesting. I now know a great deal of useless information about a wide variety of topics, but I'd say they were the best four years I've spent in my life. All I had to do was tell somebody that I didn't know how to do something or had never experienced something and my peers would go out of their way to help me. Americans are peculiar like that, they love to help. I think going to America was the smartest move I could have made; I never would have gotten the same experience if I had stayed in Britain."_

"_Is there anything you've brought back with you that you think will help you to continue growing?"_

"_In a way. I took a lot of business classes and creativity based classes, like writing and art and something they call robotics. I didn't do so well in robotics but it was fascinating nonetheless. I've got a lot of ideas on how to rebuild my family's reputation and our fortune, but I'm not going to do it at the expense of the wizarding world like Malfoys have done in the past. It's time to start over."_

"_I think you're right," I agree. "Is there anything you can share with us today as far as your ideas?"_

_Draco grins and shakes his head. "That's a secret. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait until everybody else finds out, but I'll gladly sit for another interview when that happens."_

"_Do you have any last words for your audience before you go?" I ask in a last-ditch attempt to keep him talking._

"_Just remember anybody can change. Even the bad guys." Draco shakes my hand and we part ways. No doubt the next installment of this exciting new story will be quick in coming—the Wizarding world needs a change and it looks like change is coming soon!_

Astoria reread the story twice. She was trying to compare this new image of Malfoy with the one she remembered from school. The smirking, scrawny, sneering bastard from Hogwarts couldn't have turned into the man in the interview. That or he'd Confunded the interviewer. It seemed somewhat more likely that he'd faked the entire thing. Regardless, her issue wasn't with Malfoy, but rather with the Prophet. While the Prophet had been known in the past to print whatever it felt like, the Truth in Print Act of 1999 prevented it from doing that.

One of the more delightful aspects of her job was that she could send people to the Wizengamot for failure to adhere to official Ministry acts. A full redaction of the story would be acceptable, though; her own name was in the papers rather more often than she liked and she didn't particularly want to aggravate the Prophet unless there was no other choice.

She found a bit of parchment with her office information on it and scribbled a quick letter to the Prophet's editor. She stifled a snort at the thought; perhaps they'd even post it in the editorials!

_Mr. Cuffe_, she wrote, _The Daily Prophet article on 10 December 2003, "Draco Malfoy—Muggle Lover?" defies the Truth in Print act of 1999, which places limitations on articles that are clearly not factual in basis but are presented as factual information. The full redaction of the article in question is requested. A hearing is scheduled for 15 December 2003 should the article not be redacted by 9:00 PM 10 December 2003. _

She nodded at it, satisfied that she'd covered all the major points. She doubted they'd refuse her request; a hearing cost everybody time and money, and most people were willing to agree to the cease and desist letters her Department sent out. She took it across the hall to Daniel Collins' office to have him read over it before she had Tabitha take it to the owlry.

"Is this acceptable, do you think?" she asked after letting herself into his office.

"Is this about the Malfoy story?" Daniel asked before she handed him the letter. "It's probably fine, the Prophet's a pushover these days." He scanned it and handed it back without making any corrections. "I'd mail it soon, to give them time. That's a short deadline you've given them."

Astoria shrugged. Short deadlines kept people from being able to come up with good defenses, and the Prophet didn't deserve a defense. "I don't think there's anything they can come up with to fight this. The Act is pretty clear on what is and is not acceptable and the article crossed the line and blew it up for good measure."

Daniel laughed. "Don't tromp on them too much, Astoria, you might need them someday."

She snorted and left him to his work. She signed and sealed the letter with the stamp of the Ministry, then gave it to Tabitha to take care of. "Sooner rather than later," she said when she handed it to her secretary. "Thank you!"

"Not a problem, Miss Greengrass," Tabitha said, glad to see Astoria in a better mood despite what had caused it. Putting people in their place by the letter of the law made Astoria inordinately happy.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Astoria threw the letter down on her desk. "What the hell are they thinking?" She paced back and forth in front of her desk, arms crossed. The Prophet refused to pull the story. Not only that, they invited her to attend the hearing! As if she wasn't already going, but still! They added insult to injury and they bloody well knew it! "When I get my hands on the Daily bloody Prophet, heads will roll!" She gathered the letter, her coat, and purse, and stormed out of her office. "I'm leaving for the day, Tabitha," she informed her secretary in the politest voice she could muster, which still wasn't very nice.

"Where are you going?" Tabitha asked. "If anybody calls in for you?"

"I'm going to do research and alcohol. Drink alcohol and do research. I'm leaving." Astoria didn't try to make that sound any better. A stiff drink and a lot of annoyance were in her future. She hadn't been planning to have to fight the stupid article, so she hadn't pushed the hearing date back further to give herself time to prepare!

"I'll send any records of relevance to your apartment," Tabitha said. Astoria paused, thought about it, and decided not to say anything else in case it came out as bitchtastic as she felt it would.

Astoria left the office and stalked right into somebody who was attempting to enter the office. "My apologies, Miss…?" the man said. Astoria bent to pick up her dropped purse, then looked up at the man only to see one of the inadvertent sources of her irritation—Draco Malfoy. He stared down at her in concern but she narrowed her eyes at him and continued down the hallway to the lift.

* * *

Draco watched the angry brunette storm down the hallway and shook his head. People had been giving him odd reactions all day, after the damned story the Daily Prophet printed. The Quibbler had been voluntary; how the Prophet had gotten ahold of the story and blown it completely out of proportion he didn't know, but he certainly planned to find out. His efforts in finding a way to quash the story had finally brought him to the Department of Magical Legislation to see an Astoria Greengrass about his options. It was strange; not even seven years ago, all it would have taken was a payoff and a visit from Father, but now there were legal channels and loops and what felt like circles upon circles of pointlessness to even get as far as Miss Greengrass' office.

That wasn't to say he objected. Having a solid legal system was definitely worth the personal annoyances he had to deal with. It was a sight better than what the Ministry had been like under Fudge and it meant the regular people, without money and influence, still had a square chance at getting justice. He approached the older woman at the first desk in the main office of the Department and waited patiently for her to look up from the same Daily Prophet issue he was there about.

She glanced up after a moment and startled. "Oh, good afternoon, sir," she said. She tried to surreptitiously glance down at the picture that accompanied the article and he knew she was comparing him to the picture.

Draco took pity on her and introduced himself. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I was sent here from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to speak to a Miss Astoria Greengrass?"

"You just missed her," the woman said with a slightly pained look at the door he'd come in. He glanced behind him, then it hit him.

"The angry young woman who just left?" Draco cursed his luck. If her reaction was anything to go by, she probably thought he was evil and the scum of the earth.

"The Prophet refused to pull the article, you see," the woman explained. "Miss Greengrass is rather upset about having to deal with a hearing, especially on the last Friday before the Christmas hols."

"There's a hearing?" That probably explained her anger, then. The Prophet could be notoriously stubborn on occasion, and there were few things they loved more than dragging name through the dirt. Draco was simply the latest victim.

"I imagine you'll get an owl with the details soon, but there's a hearing scheduled for the Prophet to argue their position this Friday. It was just a formality until the Prophet decided that they were going to fight Miss Greengrass' request to pull the article."

Draco, impressed, thanked the woman and headed back out of the office. So Astoria Greengrass was on his side? He wondered if she was any relation to Daphne Greengrass; he didn't recall Daphne having any siblings but she was the odd one out in their year—too Gryffindor to be a true Slytherin but too Slytherin to belong anywhere else. They didn't exactly talk, especially not after the war. Draco didn't keep up with anybody except Blaise, who'd only gone along out of fear, not out of belief in the war. He'd been the only one to visit Draco when he was abroad.

Friday would be the day, then. Until then there wasn't much he'd be able to do until Astoria contacted him. Perhaps Mother would know who she was; Greengrass was hardly a common surname and Mother knew probably every pureblood child that had been born in the past three decades. Draco, agitated though he was by the whole mess, forced himself to calm enough to safely Apparate back to the Manor. With any luck, which he hadn't had much of recently, things would sort themselves out.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: It's safe to say I am not happy with this chapter, but it is what it is and I'm not going to rewrite it again. I don't know how many more chapters this is going to have; I only really have an idea for the next one so that may be the end of this. If I come up with anything else, I'll keep updating, but no promises. Feel free to check out my profile for my other HP stories; there's a lot of one-shots on their way and a couple of chaptered fics in the works.

EDIT:: I derped on my math, thanks to misunderstanding the HP wiki.

* * *

Friday morning dawned bright and cold. A light layer of snow had frozen overnight and formed a crunchy path underfoot. Astoria, armed with her briefcase, left her apartment three hours early. The hearing was at nine but she'd been wake for hours. Her case was solid and Malfoy had responded to her owl and was going to be there, but still. It was a toss-up on who she'd get as far as the Wizengamot. Likely most of the members would already be on their holiday; she'd gotten the last hearing slot available.

The ministry was empty when she Apparated in; nobody in their right mind would be at the Ministry at six AM on the last Friday before the two-week mandated holiday, besides her. The Department of Magical Legislation was empty and dark and cold when she got up to it. A few minutes later, after brewing some tea and casting a heating charm, she had her notes spread out over her desk for review.

The Truth in Print act was the bread and butter of her argument; if she had to, she'd read every last word of the ten-page document. It strictly forbade using nonfactual information to make money, and that was exactly what the Prophet was trying to do. She had other information, news clippings and sales figures, and other laws pertaining to libel, but the Truth in Print act was where she was going to make her case. She still didn't really believe Malfoy's bullshit in the Quibbler, but he _had_ run to the States with his tail between his legs and years _could_ change a lot, but he was still Draco Malfoy. Was it possible that somebody could really forget everything they'd grown up knowing was the truth?

It didn't matter anyhow, whether or not it was true. The only thing that mattered was the Prophet. Draco Malfoy was just an unintended casualty on the Prophet's war on the law. It could have happened to anybody.

She reviewed her notes until her tea, forgotten, grew cold. She was too jittery to sit still so she paced her office, and forth until she lost count of how long she'd been doing it. There wasn't a lot of precedent for court hearings where a white-collar crime had been committed; usually a slap on the wrist was all that was done. She had no idea what the Prophet was going to do to fight her case; all she could do was go in prepared for anything.

At an hour til, she packed up and Vanished her forgotten tea. Tabitha was already at her desk. "Is there anything I can do to assist you?" she asked.

Astoria shook her head. She felt like throwing up. Of course she'd gone before the Wizengamot, when she was presenting laws to be approved or vetoed, but fighting a case was something else entirely. "I'm as prepared as I can be but thanks. If I'm not back by lunch, feel free to send everybody home early."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Tabitha said. Astoria nodded to her, feeling like they were just words to keep her calm, and hit the lift to ride down to Level 10. She met Susan in the lift, on her way down from the Atrium.

"Just coming for support," Susan said, unprompted, when Astoria got into the lift.

"Coming to see how I'm doing, more like," Astoria said with a queasy smile.

"I have the utmost faith I you. And I'll back you up if anybody has an issue with the hearing."

"And there's not even a little bit of interest in how Malfoy plays into all of this?"

Susan gave the ceiling an innocent look.

"Got any last minute advice?" The lift stopped at level 10 and the two women stepped out into the cool, dark hallway and made their way towards Courtroom 4.

"Don't let them intimidate you," Susan said, which felt like the kind of bullshit advice that people meant well by but said when they didn't know how else to help.

"Yeah." Astoria's flat tone must have clued Susan in to her opinion because Susan hastened to explain herself.

"I mean, don't let them provoke you into getting angry. Mr. Cuffe is a very experienced journalist, he can make you believe what he's writing and saying and he'd make a damn good politician if he were more attractive. He's going to try and sway the Wizengamot into thinking that it's really not so bad and that the law is unfair or something and you're going to have to fight that as best you can. Don't let him get under your skin. He's from another time when printing things like the Malfoy article is accepted and even encouraged." Susan showed her into the antechamber off of Courtroom 4. "Do you want to go over your notes?"

Astoria shook her head, now more nervous than she'd been before she'd got on the lift. What the hell was she doing, thinking she could go up against Mr. Cuffe in front of the Wizengamot? Was it even possible anymore for her to win this?

INSERT LINE BREAK HERE

Draco arrived at the antechamber at 8:30 on the dot, as requested, only to suddenly doubt their chances of winning. Astoria Greengrass, the same woman who'd nearly run him over in her fury a week prior, was pacing back and forth across the room while an almost-familiar redhead peeked through the only other door in the room out at what he knew was the ranks of the Wizengamot.

"The full Wizengamot! Why in the nine hells would the full Wizengamot be here?"

Draco couldn't suppress a small twinge of fear. The last time he'd seen the inside of one of the courtrooms, they had been deciding his fate for what he'd done in support of Voldemort. They had decided in his favor, but had deliberated for hours; his only saving grace was the few students who had been brave enough to step forward and tell the Wizengamot that he'd fought for Hogwarts. Draco couldn't actually remember seeing them, but then again, he didn't remember much other than spells flying and him dueling harder than he'd ever fought before because he was backed into a corner by a couple of Death Eaters who either didn't recognize him or didn't care.

"You're going to rock this," the redhead said soothingly. She didn't look like a Weasley, and besides that, Ginny was the only female Weasley as far as he knew. Maybe they'd been at Hogwarts together. Likely he'd done something horrible to her or her family. "You've gone before the Wizengamot tons of times."

"As an undersecretary! Not a…I don't even know, a law maker? I've never done that! Nobody has! There's no precedent!"

It was about that time that they noticed Draco standing quietly just in front of the door.

"We are so screwed," Miss Greengrass said. "Susan, what am I supposed to do?"

Susan? Draco glanced at the redheaded woman again. She looked about his age if he was any judge, and something felt so damn familiar about her. "Excuse me," he said quietly to the woman, who leveled a steady, brown-eyed gaze on him. She raised one eyebrow as if asking what he wanted. "What is your surname?"

"Bones." She gave him a look he couldn't decipher, but she didn't look like she hated him and she didn't look like she thought he was scum and he took that as a small victory. Susan Bones….he mulled over the name. "You were in my year. I was in Hufflepuff," she added at his look of polite incomprehension.

He nodded and turned his gaze to the still-pacing Miss Greengrass. He'd discovered she was the younger sister of his yearmate Daphne, but had been in Gryffindor. No wonder he hadn't recognized the name; the Greengrasses hadn't supported Voldemort and Draco hadn't associated with anybody who didn't. And a Gryffindor to boot—she would have been so far beneath his notice that she could have disappeared and he wouldn't have been any the wiser.

"I'm going to check on the Prophet and make sure they aren't bringing any media in," Susan said, after a few minutes of the only sound being Miss Greengrass' heels clicking back and forth on the stone floor.

"And by that you mean you're going to spy on them." Miss Greengrass stopped her pacing long enough to smile weakly at Susan. "Hope you bring back good news. Like maybe if they decided not to show up."

"You'll do fine," Susan repeated. "I'll have your back the whole time." She left the antechamber to the two of them. Draco wandered over to the hooks along the wall and hung his cloak. Ordinarily he favored more stylistically Muggle attire but facing a trial, regardless of it being him or the Prophet who was actually at fault, demanded a wizarding approach. His long robes felt awkward and stifling after not wearing them for four years; they tended to stand out a lot in the States.

Draco leaned against the wall and stared up at the ceiling while Miss Greengrass wandered in circles. Every now and then he glanced at his watch; the minutes ticked by ever so slowly. Finally, at five til, the other door opened and a young witch entered. Miss Greengrass' face lit up and she hugged the newcomer. "Hey," Miss Greengrass greeted.

"Hey yourself. You're on in five. They're going first; benefit of the doubt and all that. Better put them in their place, this whole smear campaign nonsense needs to end." The dark haired girl grinned brightly at the both of them and left the way she'd came.

"A friend?" Draco asked lightly.

Miss Greengrass gathered her briefcase and stood by the door, ready to go as soon as it opened. "I was the senior undersecretary to the Chief Warlock before I took the job at the Department of Magical Legislation. Maisie was one of the other undersecretaries." She glanced at the door, then back at him. "Don't speak unless spoken to," she said. Draco started to object but she raised a hand to silence him. "They came here to make me, my Department, the law, and, yes, you, look like fools."

"I've been before the Wizengamot before," Draco said. "I know what to do."

The door swung open earlier than expected. Miss Greengrass wiped the part-angry, part-terrified look off her face and replaced it with an air of confidence that was reflected in the set of her jaw and her suddenly ramrod straight posture. Draco was impressed at how she transformed herself as soon as the door opened. She was a different woman—confident and maybe a little bit scary and definitely a sight better than the pacing, freaking Miss Greengrass. He followed her into the same courtroom his trial six years prior had been in. The stands were filled with witches and wizards in the same plum-colored robes they'd always worn. Miss Greengrass was wearing a Muggle skirt suit of the same color, perhaps to show she was on the Ministry's side and, vice versa, that they were on hers.

"This hearing, on 15 December 2003 at approximately 9 AM, of the Department of Magical Legislation versus the Daily Prophet, hereby commences," the undersecretary from before read. She sat down at the desk overflowing with papers beneath the Chief Warlock, Mr. Chapman. The usual chair in the center of the courtroom had been replaced with two brown tables and two chairs apiece, set several feet apart. The Prophet editor, Mr. Cuffe, and some flighty-looking blonde girl were already seated.

"Mr. Cuffe?" Mr. Chapman asked, looking down at the pudgy older man. "What do you have to say in your favor?"

Mr. Cuffe tossed a nasty smile at Miss Greengrass and Draco. Draco, unimpressed, sat down. Miss Greengrass stayed standing and began to arrange her notes on the table. "We, that is, the Daily Prophet, have enjoyed a long tradition of printing only the most truthful articles for Wizarding Britain to enjoy."

Miss Greengrass set a large pile of old Prophet articles in front of Draco. The article from that Monday was on the top; he carefully sorted through the rest. A great amount of them had to do with Harry Potter, but most notably from the years before or long after Voldemort's reign over the Ministry.

"We object to the insinuation that the Prophet would ever blatantly print false information for profit and we find Miss Greengrass' argument about the Truth in Print act offensive and argumentative."

Miss Greengrass waited for them to finish but that seemed to be it. It made Draco suspicious; Mr. Cuffe wasn't stupid, there was no way he thought that would work. He had to have another plan but Draco couldn't figure out what it might be.

"Miss Greengrass?" Mr. Chapman asked with a patronizing smile. Draco didn't remember him being that obviously biased; maybe he was angry that Miss Greengrass left his office.

Miss Greengrass passed the pile of newspaper clippings to the undersecretary, who passed them up to Mr. Chapman. "These are Prophet articles, published well outside of Voldemort's reign, and all of them can be described as inflammatory and containing false information. Virtually every article written by Rita Skeeter, for example, can be called 'blatantly false information printed for profit'."

Mr. Chapman glanced over the articles and, slowly, they made their way around to the Wizengamot members. "Yes," he said finally, "These can be called inflammatory and false." Draco suppressed a grin. The ones about Harry Potter being nuts were especially appropriate, given that Harry had filled the courtrooms with Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers. Mr. Chapman would be hard-pressed to call them truthful, since he had built his still-new career as Chief Warlock on the trials of the Death Eaters.

"But—" Mr. Cuffe started to say. Mr. Chapman silenced him with a stony look.

"So we have proven that the Prophet has shown a history of false printing." She reached out her hand and Draco took a wild guess and handed her the Truth in Print Act. She took it and rolled right into the next part of her speech, so he assumed that had been what she wanted. "Gentlemen, ladies, I present the Truth in Print Act of 1999, passed by Minister Shacklebolt and ratified by the Wizengamot on 12 September 2003."

"Yes, yes, we all know what it's about," Mr. Cuffe cut her off with a dismissive flap of his hand. "It's hardly relevant."

"Hardly—" Miss Greengrass snapped. "It is directly relevant! The Prophet deliberately printed a false story knowing it would generate a lot of revenue, and that is exactly what the Act forbids! Unless you plan to say you gave that issue away for free?"

"Aha!" Mr. Cuffe latched onto her last statement like a drowning man onto a life raft. "How do you know we didn't?"

"I paid for it," the flighty blonde girl chirped, looking pleased to have added something. "One knut, I did."

"Stop it!" Mr. Cuffe hissed. "Ignore her!"

Astoria, eyebrows raised in cool surprise, pulled a sheet of figures out of her briefcase. "I also have here the revenue chart for Monday's morning and evening issues of the Prophet."

"How did you get that? That's private!" Mr. Cuffe snarled. He shoved his chair back and stood up. Draco leaned forward, one hand absently playing with the wand sheath along his thigh. Mr. Cuffe noticed the movement and his eyes bugged. "Is that a threat?"

"Don't be absurd," Miss Greengrass said.

"I also paid for it." An older woman in the stands looked up from her notes. "Three copies for my office."

"As did I," another member chimed in. "One knut every morning for fifteen years."

"I'll pay you all back!" Mr. Cuffe said desperately, knowing his argument was quickly collapsing beneath him. "Right now!"

"About how many people bought the issue in question?" Mr. Chapman asked.

"About five hundred thousand subscriptions were already bought, and an additional twenty thousand were purchased from the newspaper stands around the UK."

"So at roughly 520000 knuts, that would be…" Mr. Chapman said. The undersecretary scribbled on a piece of parchment and handed the answer up to him. "Roughly 1054 galleons. That's quite a price to pay back."

"And that doesn't include the evening edition, sir, in which the article was reprinted. That's an additional 412 galleons. The Prophet's sales spiked this past week after Monday."

"You will pay this back in full?" Mr. Chapman asked Mr. Cuffe, who was looking incredibly pale.

"With letters of explanation including the Truth in Print Act," Miss Greengrass added quickly. Draco wondered if she actually would be willing to settle for that.

"Given that the article in question did defy the Act, and that a suitable defense has not been provided, full reparations should be paid. Unless there is a better solution?" Mr. Chapman looked between Miss Greengrass and Mr. Cuffe.

Draco lightly touched Astoria's wrist. "What?" she snapped quietly. He gestured for her to lean down and he whispered in her ear.

"What is this?" Mr. Cuffe yelled, furious. "Are they allowed to discuss this?"

"I don't see why not, as Mr. Malfoy is the subject of this hearing however indirectly."

Draco sat back and watched with pleasure as an evil grin spread across Miss Greengrass' face. "Upon further consideration," Miss Greengrass said, her eyes boring into Mr. Chapman's, "The Department is not happy with this settlement. Instead, we ask for the original request the Department sent out on Monday morning—that the article be redacted. Allowing Mr. Cuffe to pay his way out of this infraction of the law sets a legal precedent that the Ministry can be bought as was possible pre-Voldemort. We ask for a fine of…" she glanced at Draco, who mouthed _thirty three_ back at her, "Thirty three galleons. We also ask that all future infractions carry a fine equal to the cost of the infraction—for instance, the cost of paying reparations to the people of Wizarding Britain would instead be paid to the Ministry. Maybe into a collection for the victims of the broken laws?"

Draco stared at Miss Greengrass, seriously impressed. She'd taken his simple idea and turned it into a massive slap in the face to both the Prophet and future law breakers, and he wanted to applaud. There was some murmuring amongst the ranks of plum-robed witches and wizards. The Ministry still held something of a reputation for being bought off and she and Draco weren't the only two who wanted to see that change.

Mr. Cuffe was practically steaming. He had once been an ally of the Malfoy family; at least, until the article came out. Draco still wasn't sure how the Prophet had gotten ahold of the story since he doubted the Quibbler would have leaked or sold it and it was unlikely that it had been a coincidence that the two articles had come out on the same day.

"All in favor of paying reparations?" Mr. Chapman asked. Four of the over fifty members present raised their hands. "All in favor of setting a legal precedent?"

The rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands. Mr. Cuffe started screaming obscenities but several law enforcement wizards Draco hadn't noticed in the back of the room escorted him out.

Draco helped Miss Greengrass gather her notes and collect the newspaper clippings, and then followed her back into the antechamber to collect his cloak.

"I told you you could do it," Susan said with a smile. "Nobody's going to want to cross you after this gets out. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go enjoy yourself, you've earned it."

"Thanks," Miss Greengrass said warmly as Susan showed herself out. She turned to Draco, who was busy fiddling with the tangled ties on his cloak. "I suppose I should thank you."

"For?" Draco asked. How had they gotten so messed up? It was like they tangled themselves when his back was turned. "For coming back from America in time to give your Department a headache?"

"Well, yes," she conceded, "but I meant for the legal precedent thing. I hadn't thought of that, at least not as coherently as you put it."

Draco shrugged. "Americans are pretty serious about their laws. Anybody could pick up something like that after living there." Miss Greengrass nodded awkwardly and clasped her briefcase. "Actually, I wanted to thank you."

"What for?"

"For fighting the Prophet. You're the first person who cared enough to do anything about it." He felt a little uneasy, but he plunged forward with the second half of what he'd been trying to find a way to say since she'd first walked into the courtroom, all attractive confidence. "I'd like to buy you dinner, as a token of my appreciation."

INSERT PAGE BREAK HERE

Astoria eyed Malfoy thoughtfully. He seemed sincere, and she really did appreciate his suggestion about legal precedents. She allowed herself a mental snicker at the thought of being seduced by legal jargon. "Where?"

"The Ballroom, tonight, if you like dancing," Malfoy suggested. Astoria managed to suppress her eyebrows shooting up, but just barely. The Ballroom was one of the classiest wizarding restaurants in Britain and she'd only been there once before, for Daphne's wedding reception. She'd been wanting to go back, but it was hard to get a reservation at and she didn't have a reason to go or anybody to go with.

"I—yes, I would like to go to The Ballroom." Astoria didn't have a single thing that would be appropriate for either dancing or a classy place like The Ballroom; and he wanted to take her tonight? She hoped like hell Daphne would have something she could borrow.

"I'll meet you there at eight?" Malfoy asked. He gave up on detangling his cloak ties and slung it over his arm.

"Eight it is," she said. Malfoy smiled and left the antechamber.

"Daphne's going to be in for one hell of a surprise," Astoria said to herself. She was still a little bit confused by both his offer and her acceptance; clearly he wasn't as bad as he used to be, but his behavior had caught her off guard. Malfoy had been quiet and supportive while she was talking and she had half-expected him to be a lot more obnoxious, and maybe her preconceived notion of him was completely wrong, but she was having problems wrapping her mind around the fact that he was still a Malfoy and everybody knew what Malfoys were like. Astoria grabbed her coat and gave herself some time before leaving; she needed a little bit of time to think without running into Malfoy on the way out of the Ministry. "This is going to be interesting."


End file.
